


When From Paths You Wander

by Kimra



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Don't Leave the Path, Free to a good home, Friendship, Gen, Magic, Moss Covered Unicorn - Freeform, Mysticism, Mythology - Freeform, Ridiculous Disambiguations, Unicorns, moss - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-07 23:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimra/pseuds/Kimra
Summary: The woods are dark, the woods are dangerous, and there are many things inside that would draw you away.





	When From Paths You Wander

Steve lowers his shield and stares.

“Is that?” Bucky asks with the kind of awe Steve feels in his bones.

It’s part of the moss, almost. Like it has lain there for so long the moss has grown up around it, enclosing it, growing into it. But the moment they stepped too near its head had raised from the ground, horn protruding, and what he had thought was a rock was alive and watching them.

“We should leave.” He whispers, and watches as the thing, the creature twists its head to eye him. He feels cold to his bones under the scrutiny of that opaque eye, and he reaches forward slowly to catch the back of Bucky’s hoodie, but Bucky’s taken a step closer. “Bucky.” He hisses as quietly as he can.

They’re in an untouched patch of woods south of Norway, or they were when they stepped off the path. But the path disappeared and they’ve found no sign of it since. They’d struck out in a single direction, the air growing cool and damp, the floor becoming soft and spongy, covered in moss. Steve has watched his feet sink in amongst the lush green, the splash of water around his heels, and then the ground bouncing back as if he’d never been there.

There’s no path, no tracks to lead them back, after the second hour Bucky had pulled out two sticks of gum, lent against the buttress of an overgrown tree and made a, ‘What can you do?’ expression which Steve had agreed with while he took the proffered gum and pondered his fate while he chewed.

“Options?” Bucky had asked at the time, and Steve had sort of shrugged.

“I’m not really a-“ and Steve had made a vague hand waving motion at the forest around them to mean ‘magic’ but also so much more, “sort of person.” It had been an under-exaggeration.

Bucky had tapped his foot against the tree, kicked at a loose stone and set out vaguely in the direction they’d been walking all along.

Neither of them had expected this.

“Bucky.” Steve tries again, and he takes a halting step towards his friend, and the things moves. Not just an eerie sweep of its head, but the hulking shake of limbs as it clambers onto its front hooves. Steve freezes, fingers a breath away from Bucky, and Bucky moves further way from Steve and closer to it. It keeps moving but its slow, unnatural. A shaky jolt of its front legs ripping from the moss and straightening out, then its chest lifting, hind legs following, moss draped head dipping and then raising higher its horn protruding into the sky like a silver bladed knife. Steve finds it hard to breathe, chest constricting around the awe and horror he feels at seeing this thing, this unicorn like creature in the middle of a forest with no paths and no exits.

Once on its feet it looks past Bucky and his steady approach to Steve. He thinks for all the magic, the other worldness of this place it’s still just an animal, but even he knows when an animal doesn’t like him.

“Okay,” he reasons with it, and steps closer. It does a side step to face him and Bucky keeps moving closer. Steve has, he calculates, less than a minute before Bucky’s gotten within range of that horn and he does not want his friend gored. He has no idea what a unicorn horn would do to a wound, but he suspects it’s not good. There is no universe where being stabbed by a giant pointy rod is good.

Bucky stumbles on a mossy rock, catches his footing and keep’s moving, and Steve makes a snap decision. He lunges at his friend, in three strides his got his friends hoodie caught in his big hands, and Bucky is straining towards the unicorn but he is not moving.

The unicorn screeches and charges. It’s got tiny delicate legs, a curtain off moss draping from its back, and Steve is terrified. He knows it must be partly magic making him feel it, but that doesn’t make it feel less real.

He’s raised his shield by the time it reaches them and its hooves clash against it as it rears above them. It is, he realises, much bigger than he had thought, it’s easy a head higher than him, and he’s wrangling Bucky who’s decided to participate by trying to break his hold, and trying to keep the shield up, and it is not easy.

It comes to a head, when he manages to push the unicorn back, and it changes its assault, head lowering, hoof stamping and tossing chunks of moss in the air, and Steve isn’t sure how vibranium will stand up against a unicorn but he is about to find out. He braces to the attack, steadies his weight on the uneven ground, and Bucky knocks the wind out of him with his metal arm.

Steve stumbles, the uniform moves, and Bucky gets between them with two raised hands like he’s fending off squabbling children.

“He’s an idiot.” Bucky says, and Steve realises it’s to the unicorn and not to him. He pauses, and so does the creature. “But he’s trying to protect me.” Bucky glares at Steve and Steve lowers his shield. “As if I need protecting by now.” He adds unhappily, and turns back to the unicorn.

Steve is not quite sure what is happening.

“Bucky.” Steve tests and both unicorn and Bucky ignore him. What happens instead is Bucky reaches out, rests his hand on the long nose of the unicorn, and skitches lightly. Pieces of moss fall off, and under it Steve can see the unicorn is a caramel brown colour.

“We don’t mean to intrude,” Bucky promises, “we just got lost.” The unicorn makes a very suspiciously equine sounding sound and Bucky says, “But we can’t stay lost. We have things to do. If,” he seems hesitant, “that’s okay by you?”

The horn sweeps down with movement that looks like a nod, but Steve knows it can’t be, and then the unicorn moves past them, pushing Steve aside with a broad shoulder. He goes to say something but quells under the look Bucky gives him. He feels unfairly chided, and follows sulkily as Bucky picks a path behind the unicorn, and the unicorn wonders ahead of them. Steve follows Bucky.

They stop at a spot, it looks no less mossy, no less damp and same-like as the rest of the forest, but the unicorn stops and its lowers its head to rest the tip of its horn on the ground before it steps back.

“Alright,” Bucky agrees with the creature, “thank you.” and he steps onto the spot and disappears.

Steve has a moment to nearly panic before a hand reappears, beckoning him towards the spot. “Hurry up Steve.” Bucky demands, and his hand disappears again.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, and looks at the creature again. It’s so large, so frail, moss cling to every hair, its body moving under the weight and he wonders if it’s comfortable, happy? He doesn’t know how to ask, thinks Bucky could, but that’s no use. Instead he does as he was raised to do, he relies on manners. “Thank you very much, it was a pleasure.” And he bows, because it seems the sort of thing to do before he steps on that same spot as Bucky and the damp eerie quiet of the forest disappears and he is standing somewhere completely different.

Bucky is looking at his watch sarcastically and Steve is having none of that.

“So,” he says before Bucky can start it, “you can talk to unicorns?” Unexpectedly Bucky blushes and Steve’s hit with a wave of questions he never expected he would ever have, but for now he wants a shower and a hot cup of coffee. “Your telling me this story later.” He tells Bucky, and they stay on the path for the rest of the journey.


End file.
